philophobia
by drarrybaby
Summary: philophobia - fear of love, relationships, or intimacy harry potter was confused, tired, and worried harry potter was not the brave, untouchable 'Boy Who Lived' harry potter was still the terrified boy under the stairs he had something new, something strange, with draco malfoy- something he did not want and harry potter was afraid.


The great hall was less lively, and the inhabitants less cheerful. Many other seventh years stared at places in the room- where a family member, friend, or loved one had been struck with a final curse. Where someone had died, maybe not even someone they knew. Staring at the spot where someone had stood, someone who everyone knew.

This person, Draco Malfoy noticed, was not in the great hall. In fact, now that he thought of it, he hadn't seen Potter at King's Cross- and he surely would've noticed. The crowds that swarmed around Potter were noticeable to everyone- they all wanted a piece of the boy who lived. Even Draco.

News had spread about Draco's minor alliance to Dumbledore, his being forced to take the mark, and Narcissa and his assistance to Harry, during both of his captures. Many had treated him with some degree of respect after that- most people did, surprisingly. Sure, he had received a few dirty looks, but he never asked anyone to like him. All he really wanted now, Draco realized, was to be left alone.

And that was all Harry Potter wanted too.

He had snuck onto the train with his invisibility cloak, for christ's sake. If that wasn't taking extra precautions, he didn't know what was. He had brought food from Grimmauld Place for dinner, and made sure to cast charms on all of his stuff to keep it hidden. No one was going to bother Harry Potter this year- no way, no how.

Good Lord, even his classes were just for him- Private healer lessons with Madame Pomfrey, Magical Art class, transfiguration, of course (McGonagall would kill him) and finally, Advanced Potions. Despite his complete failures the last seven years of his life, He had finally gotten some… extra help with that.

Ron and Hermione hadn't asked his classes, or his mental state, for that matter. They didn't see him as Harry Potter, the boy under the stairs. The person they saw was fake, brave, and untouchable. But the boy who lived did not exist. And the boy under the stairs was vulnerable, hurting, and god damn exhausted.

Harry fell asleep with the invisibility cloak covering him, exhausted after reading through the potions book. He knew he would dream of Sirius, Tonks, Remus, and his parents. Haunted, Harry spelled the curtains shut and prepared himself. It's gonna be a long year.

Draco Malfoy groaned. No matter how many times he attended this goddamn school, he still had to get up at the same ridiculous time, every ridiculous year.

His fellow Slytherins and their irritated glances were, thankfully, nowhere to be found. He had paid for a private dorm, god bless McGonagall and her respect for broken children. It's a miracle she didn't raise the goddamn boy who lived herself.

Malfoy sighed as he searched for his tie in his mess of a room. Potter had been on his mind all day, all of yesterday, etc. Hell, he had been on his mind all summer. After their… meeting, and their… friendship? It was difficult to place the exact name of their relationship. Friends seemed too friendly, and warm, while 'acquaintances' was too simple and distant. And 'tutor' didn't cover the minor intimacy they had shared; the secrets he knew, the pain Harry knew.

Harry, or Potter?

Malfoy shook his head as he walked to the Great Hall- he honestly had no idea.

When Harry Potter woke up, he felt shaken by the wave of déjà vu he felt. In fact, there was not a single element this morning that didn't remind him of his very first, and very daunting, year at Hogwarts. The darkness of waking early; five in the morning, just in time for Petunia's chores- the cold tower, and the plaguing worry of where exactly to sit during his first breakfast.

Harry did feel slightly stupid and sheepish at these thoughts, until realizing that honestly, there was nothing worse for him to worry about. No death, no drama, no impending doom- just seating arrangements and class partners. That was pure bliss.

Harry gingerly parted his curtains, as if a wonder lie on the other side. He smiled to himself, and got out of bed quietly. If he was going to be up at this ungodly hour, he might as well make the best of it. He had studied for advanced potions already, and proceeded to flip through his transfigurations book. Maybe he'll transfigure Ron's robes while he's sleeping. If anything, Harry was going to be ready for the damn day- concerns about Malfoy set aside, this was his new leaf, his re-do with absolutely zero problems. And honestly, nothing right now could make him happier than that.


End file.
